


Drawing The Line

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apology Sex, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 10: Blurred. After a week of training, Dean and Sam have a chance to kiss and make up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawing The Line

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only.

Hunting’s black and white. There’s evil, and good. Supernatural, and humans. John’s always been firm about that. If there’s any suspicion that the phenomena are caused by humans, they drop the job. They try not to mess with protective spirits, for the most part. John learned black and white and grey when he was in the Corps, drilled into him in green jungles with stains of blood and the scent of fear. And he tried to teach the same lessons to his boys, hoping that the lessons carried less pain and more strength in them, filtered through his tired soul as they were.

Sam and Dean, with the weight of a few years behind them now, they understand what John tried to do, what he still does, every time they’re training, or when something new comes up on a hunt. Those are the nights that they sit around the table for long hours even if it is in silence, just letting their bond, their family be enough, be there to support John. And yet other nights, John, who they used to rail at for being an insensitive bastard when they were denied dating privileges or kept away from tempting extracurricular activities, John seems to recognize that sometimes they need one another more than they need him, and slips out to leave them be.

It’s something he’s only capable of doing because of how much he loves them, how much he trusts them to keep one another safe. This last hunt, John’s favorite pistol misfired. All three of them have disassembled it, cleaned it, examined it, put it back together – Sam’s even exorcised it and re-annoited it with blessing oil, as a whole and in individual pieces – but it continues to misfire during practice sessions. Dean’s borne the brunt of John’s annoyance, since he’s the reason they’re holed up in the cabin training, and after John spanks him for what seems like the umpteenth time since they arrived, he’s a little frustrated, because though he’s had most of them coming, that one, in his opinion, was uncalled for.

John seems to feel the same, because he makes an apology later that evening. Dean’s acceptance is easy, because though embarrassing, the spanking hadn’t been terribly hard compared with others he’d received. John sighs, and sets the gun in a case.

“Boys, we’re three hours drive from a friend of mine, might be able to sort this out for me or at least get it replaced. I’m thinking I’ll give him a call, drive up there, and the two of you can take a break before we get back to it – be gone overnight.”

They nod in agreement. John knows it’s time for the two of them to be alone, to make the kind of apologies that the two of them try to be respectful enough of their father to avoid when he’s in the house. Their relationship is one of those grey areas for him, though the shade fades, all the conversations he’s had with Dean about it, reassuring the boy he doesn’t need to feel guilt.

“Anything you need?” He’s gone in an hour, lists in hand, ready to restock and get the damn gun sorted out. Sam and Dean just lounge for a while, listless on the couch after the long training run from earlier. Dean’s near asleep when Sam sneaks up and trails his big fingers up the inseam of Dean’s bluejeans. Dean startles awake, and Sam gets a frown that has him backing away, worried. Then the older boy’s eyes clear.

“Trying to sneak up on me,” comes the voice rough with the fraying edges of sleep.

“Nah,” says Sam. “Had something else in mind.”

“Did you now.” Dean’s half smile is open, and he stretches a little. The couch in the cabin is short. “I might have somewhere else in mind myself.”

“Good,” comes the reply, and Sam throws Dean bodily over his shoulder, ignoring the squirming and protesting. Dean’s careful not to thrash too much, doesn’t want to hurt Sam, or more importantly, crush his hard cock on the boy’s shoulder. Sam’s forgotten a little something, though, and Dean knows it – Sam’s forgotten that the albeit short trip down the hallway to the bedroom gives Dean time to think. And it’s just enough time, and Dean’s got Sam’s number well enough that when Sam tries to toss him down, Dean’s throwing his weight just enough that Sam tumbles down on the bed with him, and now Dean has the upper hand.

Sam’s pants and boxers are off before he’s even fully aware of what’s happening, and Dean gleefully slaps Sam’s naked ass. “Gettin’ slow, Sammy.”

The growl that comes in reply to the tease has Dean even more achingly hard, and distracts him just enough that Sam pulls him in for a rough kiss, lips colliding, tongues lashing into one another like Laocoon’s snakes. If Dean could breathe, or spare a thought he’d be trying to get his own jeans off, and as the kiss breaks off, his attention wandering to that damned chiseled jawline of Sam's, teeth nipping a line to the muscled neck, he realizes that Sam’s got the jeans issue in hand. Maybe there is some benefit to being shorter than the boy.

Damn. Distracted again. It’s given Sam the opportunity to circle the point of Dean’s hipbone with a tongue far more sensual than a twenty four year old boy should own. Dean wrenches upright, pinning Sam’s legs with his own, and swatting the kid’s behind again. The slap has Sam’s cock at full attention. Dean smiles, dirty and wicked, and Sam’s whimpering into Dean’s shoulder. Dean chuckles to himself, pins Sam close to him, so they’re chest to chest, Sam curling down so that his face is tucked into Dean’s neck, and he spanks the boy again, each swat harder than the last, until Sam’s hips are bucking, and he can tell the boy’s inches from an orgasm. Oh no, not yet, he thinks.

He rolls them so that Sam’s pinned on his now red-hot ass, and claims Sam’s mouth again with his own, letting his cock drift across the boy’s, and Sam’s answering moan skyrockets through to Dean’s toes.

“That turn you on, Sammy? Turn you on, watching me get my ass spanked, these two weeks here?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Maybe I should give you more.”

“Nuh. Want… want you. In me,” he gasps, as Dean’s skilled hands skate up into the sensitive crease to tease around that tight hole. Another chuckle is his only answer, and Dean’s cold, slick fingers press up inside, one, two, three, and then Dean’s atop him, thrusting inside. All of Dean’s muscles tremble with the strain of holding back the explosive orgasm coiling up in his belly, and Sam shudders with him, losing his own control. It takes everything Dean has to stay still. Long moments pass, the two of them breathing hard and fast, until Sam finally moans, rotates his hips, and then Dean’s moving again, thrusts deep.

“Sam,” he says, low and intense, and Sam’s dark green eyes meet his own. He thrusts long and slow, leaves one hand splayed out next to Sam’s shoulder to balance himself, and cups Sam’s head with the other. “Sam.” And with just the rough sound of his own name, Sam’s cock is exploding again, painful and ecstatic, and Dean lets his own go, pulsing pleasure into Sam. Sam pulls him down, chest to chest.

A single tear courses down Dean’s face, and Sam watches it. Dean’s eyes are wide, vulnerable after release, and when Sam leans up and kisses the tear away, draws Dean’s head down on his shoulder, they both know. They see each other clearly, even though sometimes the vision gets a little blurred.

**Author's Note:**

> Music: Rembrandts - Confidential Information


End file.
